


treasures

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, For a Friend, M/M, Mutual Pining, i wrote this all in one night end me, literally fuckign disgusting. how dare i write somethign with minimal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a rat forces himself into his life; for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	treasures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HunkRat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunkRat/gifts).



> natsukashiis still getting worked on DO NOT WORRY  
> uh. this was for my friends bday. happy birthday jess  
> u fucking goober

**i.** _first meeting._

 

The explosion in the distance throws off his aim.

 

This wouldn’t be too much of problem if it wasn’t a close range engagement with one of the most threatening Talon mercenaries to ever exist, but you know; it happens. Hanzo grits his teeth as he tries to steady his arms, attempting as well as he can to dodge point blank shotgun blasts. Realizing just trying to use his bow is a waste of time, he throws it to the side. It’s time to put all of those years of training to use, he muses. First thing on the agenda is to disarm the assailant, ‘Reaper’. Truly, he can’t come up with a realistic plan to do that without sustaining serious injuries; but his brother has told him multiple times after joining Overwatch to just go with the flow. He ignores such advice most of the time, because it’s idiotic, but his personal preference does not become greater than the need to survive. However, his thought process becomes his downfall; in that short time of deciding what to do Reaper had already gained the upper hand. One shotgun is pressed firmly against his head, clawed finger teasing the trigger as if to fill him with a weak sense of false hope. The bowman grits his teeth, balling his shaking hands into fists as he chides himself for allowing this to happen. If he truly was this useless, then he deserves this fate; brains scattered, eyes blown out, his body limp and cold.

 

He expects the feeling of metal entering his head. He does not expect the feeling of having his entire front side covered in ash and the overwhelming sound of **_boom!_**

 

Hanzo begins to cough violently, rubbing his eyes as he peers out as the scene. The dust settles, and Reaper is long gone; a wisp of black smoke showing his departure. That assassin isn’t a human, is he? He pursues his lips, before turning his attention back to the person who saved his life.

 

Much like before, he does not expect to see a slouched, half naked gremlin covered in soot.

 

“Huh, he did _not_ go kablooey like I wanted him to.”

 

The Shimada just stares in awe, mouth opened slightly. The person who he’s eternally indebted to, is... this... this... mess. He finds it hard to form sentences, what with the strangeness of the situation.

 

“W-Why did you save me?”

 

“Huh? Say that again?”

 

“I said, why did you save me?”

 

The other puts on a thoughtful expression, tapping their chin as they looked up.

 

“Well, if I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t mean to save you.”

 

“I just saw the guy, and I was like, I haven’t tried to explode someone! Ever! And I wanted to see what would happen, although I’ve seen Roady kill people before. But, uh-”

 

“That… didn’t work.” They frowned, shrugging their shoulders in a comical manner. Directly afterward, they burst into a maniacal fit of laughter, which served to confuse Hanzo even further. He wasn’t even sure that was possible. This man was truly eccentric.

 

“You… said you wanted to explode someone to see what would happen. Are you going to do that to me?” The archer says it calmly enough, although on the inside he’s panicking. This person is insane, there’s not an inch of reason in their body. They could snap and blow off his limbs in a second.

 

“Aww, mate, why would I blow up someone so pretty? That’s just bad manners.”

 

“W-what?”

 

“Well yeah, you’re super-hot!”

 

Hanzo is speechless. He tries to formulate a sentence, calmly compose himself and take control of the conversation, but all that comes out is a bunch of confused sounds.

 

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

 

“Your eyes are really nice, plus you got a super great tit. What’s not to love?”

 

He sputters, becoming more and more aware of the blood rushing to his face. This man is making him embarrassed. It was only a few minutes ago that he had come to terms with his demise, and now he is getting complimented by an explosion happy madman. This day has been turning out to be too eventful for his tastes.

 

“Anyway, I should go find Roadie. See ya!”

 

And just like that, he’s gone.

 

The eldest Shimada lets out a huge sigh, wipes the dust off of his face, and goes to retrieve his Storm Bow. Silently, he vows to forget this ever happened.

 

**ii.** _reintroduction._

 

“We have two new recruits, for the reformed Blackwatch under the surveillance of agents Genji Shimada and Hanzo Shimada. Please welcome Jamison Fawkes and Mako Rutledge.”

 

There’s weak applause between their ragtag group of talented people, mostly because it’s 4:00 AM and everyone woke up just for this meeting. Hanzo is groggy and moves some stray hairs out of his eyes, but jolts awake when he sees the familiar face. It’s him, the maniac. He feels the blush on his face, frantically finding his brother and pulling him aside as fast as humanly possible.

 

“Explain.”

 

Genji laughs at him, _laughs_ , and replies casually. “We apprehended them when they came into the area of my mission. Since I was appointed to make a better, less illegal Blackwatch more dedicated to making skilled criminals into heroes; I gave the two of them an offer. We give them more solid protection against those who wanted their treasure as long as they worked for us. They accepted, which is good. Maybe I’m more persuasive than I think I am, eh?”

 

He doesn’t respond, looking at the duo apprehensively. The big one, that must be the Roady the maniac was referring to before, was quite the intimidating figure. Hulking, with an apathetic gas mask strapped to his face. He shivered, thankful that he wasn’t his adversary.

 

The grem- no, Jamison (that was his name, right?) catches his eye, a smile immediately on his face as he winked at him.

 

The flush becomes deeper. He scowls.

 

Joining Overwatch was a mistake.

 

**iii.** _heart of gold._

 

“Do you not understand anything at all? You have to be careful! You could have gotten yourself killed out there! It’s a miracle you came back in one piece, much less alive!” He tried not to yell too loud, he really did, but he can’t help it. You can’t help but get furious when one of your members throws himself into the frontline and starts spraying grenades in all directions, hoping a competent sniper like goddamn Widowmaker won’t put a bullet through his skull. Especially when you’ve grown to care for them.

 

Thankfully, Jamison isn’t a corpse, which is good. He is, however, dense. Even though Hanzo is screaming his lungs out and fuming, the other has a lopsided grin on his face as he murmurs ‘Gotcha’ and ‘Yeah mate’ with every shrieked sentence. It eludes the Shimada, which makes him even more frustrated.

 

“Why are you not taking this seriously? This is an issue we have to address, and all you’re doing is staring off into space!”

 

“Hanzy,” Jamison begins, and Hanzo already is at least ten times more irritated. The nickname is insufferable (he denies anything his brother says about him enjoying it) and he wished Jamison would just call him by his actual name, “you care about me, dontcha?”

 

The dreamy look is back in his eyes, a dumb smile spreading across his face. “ ‘m touched that you care about me, Hanzy! I care about you too.”

 

Hanzo flinches. Nobody can make him speechless this much except Jamison. Jamison is the source of many, many exceptions. He doesn’t know why he lets the Australian catch him off guard so often, but he does.

 

The archer crosses his arms, pursuing his lips before replying coldly. “I care about everybody in Blackwatch. Now go, and learn how to not be a suicidal idiot.”

 

“Y’know, Hanzy, sure. If it makes you happy, it’s worth it.”

 

The Shimada tries not to let it get to him, grimacing to try and hide his emotions, although his face is probably beet red. Jamison grins and giggles, which makes Hanzo’s heart flutter in ways he doesn’t want it to, and waves goodbye before running off.

 

**iv.** _sunsets._

 

They’re stationed in the middle of nowhere, on the lookout for any suspicious activity. There was a large surge of murder cases in this town in the past weeks, and Hanzo was sent to investigate. It was supposed to be a solo mission, but Jamison managed to convince Soldier:76 to make it a partner mission instead. That’s how they got here, in the park searching for incriminating figures.

 

(‘The park is full of criminals!’ Jamison had said, ‘You gotta trust me, I was one once. If I was a killer, I would totally hide out in a park. It’s a no brainer!’)

 

“Hey, Hanzy- doesn’t the sun look nice from here?”

 

He raises his eyebrow, before averting his attention to the horizon. Warm colors melted into each other in the hazy sky; rich pinks, reds, and oranges meshing into a beautiful array of hues. Hanzo allows himself to smile, drinking in the stunning sight to reply to the other. However, he finds his throat caught when he realizes that perhaps Jamison is more gorgeous than the sunset itself. The soft light hit his face perfectly, illuminating those sharp teeth and highlighting the dusted freckles across his complexion. Bright eyes shone clearly, the Cheshire grin oddly endearing in its own way. The archer feels his heart race even faster than any time before, internally losing it when he realized Jamison caught him staring.

 

The other burst out laughing, the cackle softer than usual, surprisingly.

 

Afterwards, Jamison interlaces their fingers, making them hold hands. Hanzo doesn’t protest.

 

**v.** _confessions._

 

Genji’s pep talk repeats itself in his head, his brother’s words said like a mantra under his breath. “Stay calm,” he said, “Be sincere and don’t hold back, show that you’re serious. If they deny your love, play it off.”

 

The flowers in his hands feel like something cheesy and forced. Hanzo knows that Jamison would take some bombs over roses any day.

 

After at least five reviews of what he should say and possible reactions, he gathers the courage to knock. He hears someone scrambling out of bed, one hushed curse, and a lock unlocking at an incredible speed.

 

Jamison, hair messier than usual, in a stained white t shirt and boxer shorts. The spitting image of sloppy, he shouldn’t be surprised. “Oh, heeeey Hanzy- who are those flowers for? You want me to write you some cool letter for it so you can impress the lucky person? I got some pretty good handwriting if I do say so my- “

 

“They’re for you.”

 

For the first time, their roles are switched. This time, Jamison is caught off guard. That’s a lot more satisfying than he thought it would be.

 

“For the past few months, you have been nothing but good to me. And slowly, I’ve developed feelings for you. Everything you do is endearing, whether it’s your laugh or your personality- “

 

“I know I’m not the best person to be in a relationship with, but I’ll try to improve for you.”

 

He feels his cool slipping away, scripted words melting as the possibility of rejection weighs down his shoulders.

 

“So- will you go out with me?”

 

He’s almost whispering by the end of the sentence, cheeks pink at the mere embarrassment of the situation. Will you go out with me sounds like a question asked by fifteen-year-old boys asking their date to prom. Hanzo is not a fifteen-year-old boy, he is a trained assassin and master archer with quite the history. His name strikes fear into anyone who lives in Japan, and he’s been able to take out opponents much more volatile than him.  This is not supposed to be as hard and as intimidating as it is right now.

 

“Jeez, Hanzy- thought I was gonna have to wait forever for this. Of course I will!”

 

Jamison leans down and kisses him in his own way, hard and rough but with a sense of softness around the edges.

 

It’s perfect.

 

**vi.** _aftermath._

 

“Wait, wait... you pour the milk first?!” His lover sounds outraged, bewildered, and betrayed. Hanzo rolls his eyes, closing the cap on the carton before putting in the cereal. Usually he wouldn’t eat these glorified sugar chips bathed in cow milk, but there’s nothing else in this kitchen for some absurd reason.

 

“What’s the problem with pouring milk first? It does not affect the taste at all, nor does it magically make the cereal toxic.”

 

“It’s just wrong! It’s-It’s like the law to put cereal first.”

 

“I recall you used to be quite the lawbreaker.”

 

“That’s different!”

 

“Mhm... sure.”

 

“Hanzyyyyyyy…”

 

He laughs softly, picking up the bowl and putting it on the island counter before putting a quick peck on his boyfriend's lips. Jamison hums happily, previous ‘crime’ momentarily forgotten for the time being.

 

“I love you, you know that right?”

 

“Yes, mostly because you’ve been saying it for the past nine months.”

 

“Okay, but still- I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”


End file.
